


The Best-Laid Bones of Jim Kirk

by Barkfoot



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, Asexual Character, Asexual Jim Kirk, Established Relationship, M/M, Open Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 20:02:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8174239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barkfoot/pseuds/Barkfoot
Summary: Bones flirts badly when he actually needs to get laid, which is very dramatic of him. If Jim gets Bones laid, Bones will be happy.
Plus, getting Bones laid is fun.





	

 

 

Bones can't flirt for shit. Jim swivels around on his barstool to watch the complete fucking trainwreck unfold, liking the way his head seems to slosh a few extra feet to the left when he stops.

It's too loud and too packed to hear anything, and thank fucking god for that. Across the room, Bones has progressed from stage one of Flirting Failure (wooden and uncomfortable) to stage two (flailing hands and darting eyes). It honestly looks like he's pleading for his life. The poor woman (short, plump, dark hair, sexy purple dress, all shiny and with a plunging neckline) is hanging in there, probably only by the grace of some god or other, or maybe Bones' really fantastic shoulders.

Jim considers his options. He could swivel back around and get in another beer before Bones trudges back, defeated. It's honestly appealing, but he has Basic Xenoanatomy of Federation Species tomorrow at noon, and it's not a fun time when it feels like your eyeballs are too big for your head. Though it might be too late on that front anyway, he reflects. Oh well, whatever. Another bummer inherent in letting Bones strike out is that his mood will suffer, meaning he'll be a total pissbaby for the rest of the night. Bones will stomp back to the bar, stomp back to their place, stomp into bed, roll over, and ignore the shit out of him.

The best-laid Bones of Jim Kirk is a pretty awesome guy to have around. Jim purses his lips in a way that makes him look sexy and contemplative. Bones flirts totally fine with Jim. Bones flirts with other cadets in the quad, even the intimidatingly hot ones like Shin, who has biceps as big as your head. Bones flirts badly when he actually needs to get laid, which is very dramatic of him. If Jim gets Bones laid, Bones will be happy.

Plus, getting Bones laid is fun.

_Okay, Jim. Let's do it._

He cradles a pair of shots as tenderly as if they're his own tiny children and shoves off in the direction of Bones and his flirting victim.

Purple dress is smiling the way Bones probably would at his ex wife's mother. "Oh yeah?" she says, in obvious agony. "Well, that's cool." Things are fucking dire.

Jim slides between Bones and Purple, holds a shot out to each one.

"Hold these for me?"

Purple tosses hers back with a laugh. Not like she hopes it'll take her back in time to before she started talking to Bones. In a good way, like she's pleased the inimitable Jim has swooped in to save the day.

"Cassie, this is Jim." Bones tries to put his hand on the small of Jim's back. Jim dodges. Some girls love the idea of fucking somebody else's boyfriend, but it's too soon to make assumptions about Cassie Purple Dress.

"Cassie, it's a pleasure. I hope my friend the doctor wasn't telling you too many grisly emergency room stories." Subtlety, thy name is James Tiberius.

"No, I damned well wasn't." So charming. A true southern gentleman. Bones downs his shot, which forces him to shut the fuck up.

Cassie smiles, her cute little nose wrinkling up. "If Doctor Leonard wanted to tell me all about emergency rooms, I could probably stand to listen." Man, she's really putting in the work. Bones' shoulders in that button-down must be doing it for her. That or his pretty eyes. Hard to say, really. Bones looks handsome as hell tonight (and also every night).

Bones grins all crooked.

"Atlanta or San Francisco? Because honest to god, sometimes it's downright peaceful here when you compare it to Georgia."

The crush of people has forced all three of them closer by this point, but Cassie edges even further in.

"Yeah? Don't you get more aliens around here? Isn't that harder?" All it takes is that teeny push, apparently. Cassie and her big brown eyes and her nose ring are practically putty in Bones' hands.

As Jim slips away, he hears Bones chuckle. "An Andorian with a head cold is nothing compared to a good old-fashioned Human body with a couple limbs hanging off it!"

Jim hopes Cassie's into gory shit. Bones is basically a never-ending font of things that can go terribly wrong with a person. But he's a _doctor._ Fucking a doctor is a time-honored Human tradition.

Jim makes his way back to the bar to settle his tab, flirts with the being tending bar just because he is on fucking fire tonight, and wanders out into the fog. It's chilly out, which is always a little sobering. He shoves his hands in his pockets (jacket pockets-- his jeans are too tight for the pockets to be of any actual use) and tucks his chin to his chest as he walks home.

If Jim's honest with himself, and he's not, much, Bones is the best thing that's happened to him in at least his adult life. When he was seven he drew a picture that got shown on his favorite holoshow, which was awesome, so probably Bones isn't gonna make the all-time number one slot. Anyway, with Bones around, Jim feels more like himself, like who he actually is, than he ever has before. Not like he was hiding or anything before, but like Bones and his Bonesness have somehow amplified Jim's Jimness.

It feels good to know that Bones knows things about Jim that nobody else knows, and that Jim knows things about Bones right back. It's normal for people to feel like that, but not for Jim Kirk, general asshat and roustabout of the Midwest.

When Jim gets back to the tiny apartment he shares with Bones, he throws all of his clothes on the floor, takes about a second to brush his teeth, and passes right out once he crawls under the covers.

At some undoubtedly horrible hour, Bones shoves Jim toward the wall and climbs in next to him.

"Mmmh. 'S the thanks I get? Got you laid, Bones. Be nice."

Bones leans in toward Jim's face, where it's almost indistinguishable from the pillow. He smells like their shampoo, which, if you believe the bottle, means he smells like "desert sagestone". His voice is sweet and gravelly.

"Hush up, you were in my spot." Bones presses a kiss to Jim's cheek, cups the back of Jim's head and runs his fingers through Jim's hair. Jim cranes his neck for a real kiss, hums when he gets it. "Thank you for getting me laid, Jim." It's only maybe two-fifths sarcastic.

Jim oozes back into the pillow as Bones slings an arm over his waist.

"That's more like it."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] The Best-Laid Bones of Jim Kirk](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13478781) by [wingedwords (gunpowderandlove)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunpowderandlove/pseuds/wingedwords)




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